


The Clyde Job

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [168]
Category: Elementary (TV), Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 23:19:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>cosmictuesdays wanted: Sherlock and Joan have to team up with Team Leverage - cue Parker cooing over Clyde</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clyde Job

“Parker,” Elliot growled.  His timbre had been dropping steadily with each repetition - nine, now, if he was not mistaken.

He was never mistaken.

Parker —  _deltoid, lattissimus dorsi_ and _pectoralis minor all developed well beyond what would be expected for a women of both her build and her social status - definitely a climber of some kind, probably freeclimbing, which indicates an adventurous, almost thrillseeking personality, which was reinforced by the way she is ignoring the descending tonality of her companion —_ grinned up at him sunnily.  ”Look, Elliot.  He carries his house on his back!  And he’s got a fin!”  Gentle —   _calloused, definitely free-climbing —_  hands lifted up Clyde in his little turtle suit.

Watson’s glare was getting stronger.  Time to make a social contribution.  ”Ms Hudson, our friend, knits them for him.  She thinks he appreciates the sartorial efforts.”  

There was a snort of laughter from the third of the trio.  That one had barely looked up from his keyboard for the last twenty-one minutes —  _eye movement pattern consistent with speed reading, and tracking motion suggests many small documents rather than one long block of text._  He looked up from his screen.  ”Shark fin soup?  Am I the only one to get it?”

That earned the addition of a few extra IQ points.  ”Indeed.”  

Hardison shared with him a look of understanding even as he flourished the keyboard.  The small portable printer began spitting out documents, freshly laminated.  Elliot picked one up and began expertly working it to add a patina of age and wear.  If there were any doubts about the level of their criminal professionalism, they were all gone now.  ”And voila, one new set of IDs that should get you and him up to the top floor.”

Watson rolled her eyes slightly, but she always took slight where one weren’t needed.  The IDs, and the access they bring, were enough.  Elliot passed it over for inspection, his cuff riding up minutely — _a small scar perpendicular across the top of the_ _abductor pollicis longus muscle.  Possibly a hot iron, could also be a very close call with a nine millimeter bullet_  - as Elliot dropped them into his lap.  ”Good enough?”

They were flawless.  ”As advertised, you do excellent work.”  He still.  ”Come along, Watson, villains and murderers wait for no-one.  Which is really rather rude if you think about it.”

He was almost done tugging on his coat and cap by the time Joan appeared in the vestibule, advising the three where to go to find lunch and wait for their call.  She at least pulled her own coat on quickly, used to moving efficiently after all her many careers.

“Oh,” he added as he tugged the door open for Watson.  "Also, if you intend to keep Clyde in your pocket, Miss Parker, do feel free to take some lettuce from the refrigerator for his snack, and try to have him home by his curfew.“ He half-bowed, and bounded down the steps to hail a cab.


End file.
